I Might Be A Monster
by Spiritfoxgirl
Summary: Cesare dated Petruccio for seven years. After an argument one night, Petruccio never came home. He was dead. Drunk and depressed, Cesare sought comfort in his sister's arms. A year later, he gets a phonecall from...Petruccio? GRAPHIC VIOLENCE.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Violence, monsters, death, and incest.

Pairings: Cesare/Petruccio, Lucrezia/Cesare, Federico/Vieri.

A/N: As a reminder: If Petruccio had lived, he would have been **13 years older** than Cesare. Therefore, when Cesare is 33 in this, Petruccio is already 45.

IIIIIIIIIIIII

_It had been late – late enough that the sun had just started to rise. It was cloudy; what little light was present filtered through the clouds, leaving the room of his apartment dim, vague shapes and silhouettes of furniture dotted around the room. The coffee table was covered in empty cans and bottles, with a few plates dotted over the top, breaking up the forest of debris. _

_The apartment was small, but big enough for two people, big enough for a pair of lovers that had been occupying it for the last seven years. While filthy, the room was otherwise peaceful – until a sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh rang through the silence, followed by a choked cry of pain, a taller figure stumbling back, cupping the side of his face where he'd been struck. His movements caused a few bottles to topple over, clanking together on the floor, a bit of fluid still left in them. They formed puddles on the ground around the man's feet. The bottle of beer he'd just been holding had been knocked from his hands, unopened, bubbles rising within it due to it's recent disturbance._

"_I'm sick and tired of your crap, Petruccio!" Cesare growled, roughly wiping away a dot of blood from the corner of his mouth. Petruccio's hand was still slightly raised from just having struck him, his body trembling with anger. "You can't tell me how to live me life!" The policeman snapped, watching Petruccio's eyes narrow further in his fury. _

_They stood poised; both tense, staring at each other as though they might assault one each other with their eyes alone. Petruccio's brows were knit, sweat forming on his brow, his jaw clenched, throat tight as he tried not to scream at his lover. Receiving no response, Cesare bent and picked up his drink, twisting it open with a flick of his hand. Defiant to his lover's wishes, Cesare knocked it back, taking a few deep swallows from the alcoholic beverage. _

_Livid, Petruccio found himself clenching his fists, knuckles gone white and bloodless, nails digging into his palms until they cut into his skin. He grit his teeth until his jaw ached from the strain. Hazel eyes appeared to have a red tinge to them as he stared down at the dozens of empty bottles of alcohol littering the floor. His upper lip curled in a semblance of a snarl as he raised his hand again, ready to strike him a second time. He seemed to think better of it when Cesare flinched, slowly lowering his hand and clenching it at his side once more. "You know what? Fine. If you want to drink yourself to death, be my guest. But don't expect me to stick around and watch you let yourself rot!" He snapped, turning away from his lover and storming towards the door. _

"_Why are you so obsessed with this idea, Petruccio? You think I'm hurting myself? This is how I __**relax**__ and you know it!" Cesare barked, storming after Petruccio and grabbing him by the wrist, yanking him back against him. His chest pressed against his lover's back; the gesture was possessive, and far from intimate. "You can't just __**leave**__." _

_Twisting in Cesare's grip, Petruccio gripped the short hairs at the base of his lover's neck, tightening to the point of pain and yanking backwards sharply. He treated Cesare as though he were an unruly animal, forcing him to step back with a gasp of pain. His grip was tight, proving he had more strength than he let on. Despite the fragile look of his body, he knew how to subdue his lover. _

"_Is this what you want?" He demanded, forcing Cesare to his knees through sheer force, his hand shaking as he held his lover down. Cesare reached up, clawing at Petruccio's hand, but his grip did not slacken in the slightest. "Is this what you want, Cesare! Do you want me to force you to stop?" He yelled, voice breaking on the last word as tears welled in his eyes. _

_Cesare's blunt nails dug into Petruccio's arm, just barely drawing blood as he tried to free himself. The booze had disoriented him. "I w-won't stop." Cesare gasped, staring up at Petruccio with a mix of fear and anger. "Y-You can't __**make**__ me." He challenged, growling up at him._

_His words only caused Petruccio to start shaking, his breathing picking up, sounding wet and unsteady. He watched Cesare with a mixed look of anger, hunger, and something else. His grip loosened suddenly as a tear slipped down his cheek, following the curve of his neck and disappearing under his shirt. A few more tears fell, though they were lost within the darkness of their apartment. No; Cesare's apartment. Petruccio felt hallow thinking of it that way, but it was true. _

_Pulling away from Cesare completely, Petruccio moved to the door, unlocking it with shaking hands. Casting a glance back over his shoulder at Cesare. His lover had crumpled to the floor, panting, holding the back of his neck and glaring at Petruccio with anger, gripping the bottle of alcohol tightly in one hand. Anger spiking again, Petruccio tensed, turning his gaze away. _

_There were so many things he wanted to say, but none of it would reach his mouth. Bile rose in his throat. Yelling at Cesare, regardless of the reason, always left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't want to fight with him. He didn't want Cesare killing himself like this. _

_Resolve hardening, Petruccio slammed the door behind him, the frame shaking with the force of the blow. A picture frame fell from the wall and hit the floor with a loud crack, the glass tipping lopsided out of the frame. The picture was of the two of them; they stood by a lake, smiling into the camera, their fingers laced together. Petruccio looked younger in the picture, with a bit less stubble on his face. Cesare's beard was almost non-existent back then. The picture was warped from the blow, edges curling out of the frame. _

_Slowly rising to his feet, Cesare continued to rub the aching spot at the back of his neck, pulling his hand away briefly to peer at the red under his nails. Guilt sunk in, and he felt a pang of regret for what he'd said, what he'd done. Moving to the kitchen, he tipped the beer back and finished it, tossing the bottle into the trash. He washed away the blood under his nails, glancing briefly at the picture that had been left on the floor. With a sigh, he walked past it and into the bedroom, falling onto his stomach on the bed, pulling a pillow close to his chest, breathing in the scent of his lover that clung to the fabric. Cesare didn't bother picking the picture up. When Petruccio returned to mend the broken pieces of their relationship, he would take care of the frame and the glass. The gesture was meaningless otherwise. _

IIIIIIIIIIIII

It was cold; his breath forming clouds of fog with each slow exhale. Cesare slipped a cigarette between his lips, flicking his lighter twice before it caught. He lit the cigarette and took a deep inhale of nicotine-filled smoke, disappointed that it still failed to calm the panic within him. He blew the smoke off to the side as he squinted in the fog, stopping his car and getting out, closing the door behind him. A sign read "Welcome to Silent Hill". Silent Hill… Eight years ago, he had met Petruccio here while on vacation.

It had been his sister's idea. Silent Hill had been a popular resort back then, and Lucrezia had been begging him for months to go. She had insisted it would be fun. Looking back, he hadn't been too enthused – he had work to do, and he didn't usually take vacations. His idea of vacation was sitting on the couch, turning on the TV, and knocking back beers until he passed out. Lucrezia wanted to go sight seeing. So, reluctantly, he had agreed.

The drive had been hellish. Traffic was terrible, and the drivers had set Cesare's blood aboil. He was sure he had smoked at least four packs of cigarettes by the time they had arrived. The coupled stress of being in the car, drivers all around, and Lucrezia whispering bittersweet things in his ear had nearly driven him mad. He'd thought he would regret going. But he hadn't; not after he met Petruccio.

He had spent two blissful weeks here, gotten to know the older man, and gotten along with him rather well. What had originally been a one-night stand became something more. They had kissed, touched, made love… he had never felt so connected to another person that wasn't family. After spending nearly every waking moment with Petruccio, he had decided he didn't want to have to leave him when he went home. So instead, he when he went home, he took Petruccio with him; and they had lived together ever since. He truly thought Petruccio was the love of his life. He still thought that.

Seven years they had lived together. He hadn't known Petruccio was sick for _seven_ years. How couldn't he have known? Petruccio liked his alone time well enough, enough that he had started looking for jobs within the first month of living with Cesare. Despite Cesare's insistence that he could support them both, Petruccio had insisted. He sometimes worked long hours at night, just to fill the time, or so he said. Petruccio was constantly gone, sometimes disappearing for days on end, and shushing his worries with sweet words and warm kisses. His job demanded he travel, or so he said.

"_It's boring." _ He would say, his eyes seeming to laugh as he kissed Cesare on the lips, his stubble scraping against Cesare's chin. _"You wouldn't like it, love. But it gives me enough pocket change to take you out to dinner once a week."_ He'd say, and they would fall into bed together, limbs tangled, the heat of their passion washing away his apprehension for yet another night.

He had however, heard Petruccio cough badly more than once. His lover had confessed to having a weak immune system early on in their relationship, the fifth or sixth time he'd fallen ill. He would sometimes miss work, explaining to his superiors that Petruccio needed to be taken care of; there was no one else he would trust to comfort him. Petruccio would sometimes spend days in bed, curled up, all lights cut off, windows covered. The light seemed to bother him during those times, and he would beg Cesare to block out the light, to let him rest in total darkness.

Petruccio needed him so badly during those times. They would lay in bed together, his love protesting that he would make Cesare sick – though he never did. _"Cesare, please…."_ He'd gasp, curling his fingers in the fabric of his lover's shirt. _"You don't….h-have to stay here. You need to work…I-I could g-get you sick…"_ But Cesare would never agree. Using the same technique often employed on him, he would softly kiss and quiet Petruccio's protests until he settled into bed, his face pressed in the crook of his neck, hiding away from the painful glow of light from under their bedroom door.

He should have seen the signs. They were there; they had been present, seemingly obvious due to his frequent sickness. But Petruccio insisted it was just his weak immune system. He had never gone to the doctor; not once in the seven years they lived together.

Leukemia. He had found out about it three days after their fight, a year ago. His sister had informed him that Petruccio had passed away, her eyes glistening with tears, a crumpled message clutched in her hand.

"_Cesare….I'm so sorry…"_ Those words still haunted him to this day. He would hear them constantly, every time Petruccio's name was uttered.

He was in shock at first. He hadn't expected that terrible fight to be the last time he would see his beloved. Harsh words, things he'd said after a few too many drinks – he never meant them. They had had fights before, ones that were always resolved within a few days. Though that fight had been worse than most…he had thought nothing of it. They _always_ made up. Cesare would call Petruccio, or Petruccio would come home, and they would talk. They would work out the issue, make up, and Cesare would promise to try and get better. And he did, even if he slipped up at times. By the end of the week, any argument they had would be resolved and they would be happy again. That was how it _always_ worked. _Always_.

When Lucrezia informed him of the news, he was distraught, fraught with grief that threatened to overwhelm him. He could think of nothing but Petruccio – lying in their bed for days on end, drinking himself into a stupor. He couldn't remember how many drinks he'd had; he only knew that he was drunk _all_ the time, since Petruccio had died. He had taken time off work and simply drank his sorrows away – or tried to. There was only so much he could drink before it made it worse, and he found himself emptying the contents of his stomach into the nearest toilet.

Cesare had never felt so much pain in his life. It was like he was being crushed by an invisible weight, hands ripping into his flesh and tearing his heart apart over and over again. He felt hallow. He ached so badly that he often checked himself in a mirror, to make sure there wasn't a bleeding, gaping hole where his heart should have been. When he found his body did not reflect his inner pain, he found it even more distressing. There were times he had considered ending his life right there. If not for Lucrezia, he would have gladly followed Petruccio into the afterlife. He couldn't think of how to live without him.

He vaguely remembered Lucrezia there, for a while. He remembered her hands in his hair, gently stroking, cooing his name and soothing him when he cried. She even held back his hair when he ran to the bathroom – which he was grateful for – and he knew she had helped him bathe at least once. She was his sister, and he loved her for what she did for him. He wasn't sure how he would get through the pain without her there.

Those few weeks were a blur to him afterwards, filled with alcohol and suffering. He barely remembered anything at all, save for falling asleep in Lucrezia's lap a dozen times. She didn't seem to mind, and never complained. By the time he finally managed to drag himself from his depression, Lucrezia informed him that he had taken too long to mourn; he had missed Petruccio's funeral.

"_His family came to get him."_ She said, wiping away wetness from the corners of her blue eyes. _"They haven't seen him since he left with you. They were devastated to know he had died before they got to see him again"_ Guilt. He hadn't been able to help but feel guilty. _"They kept asking me why, why did you steal him away from them…"_ He hadn't meant to steal Petruccio away – he only wanted to live his life happily with him… _"You were so sad, I didn't think you'd want to go all the way to Silent Hill to attend his funeral…"_ But he would have. If only he had known, he would have gone to the funeral.

After that, he almost felt as though he didn't deserve to see Petruccio's grave. Why should he? He had taken him away from his family, not knowing about his sickness, kept him close for over seven years. He had stolen Petruccio from Silent Hill on a whim. They had lived happily; but at what cost? He was sure the Auditore family must hate him, and would want nothing to do with him. It didn't matter that they had been lovers.

Cesare was unsure of whether or not he would have been able to force himself to visit at all. He would just end up drowning himself in booze again. Silent Hill was miles away from where he lived, and he felt it might be a lost cause to make the journey to visit if he would only be turned away. Time passed, and the pain lessened enough for him to return to work, trying to get his life back together, to fill the hole that Petruccio had left when he passed.

He had never truly recovered from the fact Petruccio was dead. Twice Cesare had gone to a bar to try and meet with someone. Both times, he had spoken with multiple people. He had given them a chance to open up his heart. But he had been able to do nothing but speak coldly to them. Both instances had ended in him drinking alone, cold demeanor making them back off almost immediately.

So he had tried, tried so very hard to distract himself. He had become almost obsessed with working, with bettering himself in his career. He had longer hours, took more risks. He had killed more criminals than he cared to count in that year. Working made time pass faster, even if the pain was no less present now that it had been twelve months ago.

On the anniversary of his death, he had planned to drown his emotions in alcohol again, to try and dull the pain he was beginning to feel all over again. He had just popped open a can of beer when his cell phone rang, and he grunted in annoyance, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear as he lifted the can to his lips. "Hello?" He answered gruffly, not in the mood to speak with anyone. No one he knew would bother him now, save his sister. She had been bitter about hearing he planned to seclude himself, thinking it useless to honor a dead man's memory.

There was a bit of faint static at first, and Cesare frowned. It was like nails on a chalk board – like a static on a radio, deafening and painful. Cesare couldn't stop cringing, and pulled the phone away from his ear, staring at the number before lifting it back up again, tapping his nails on the nearest counter. Nearly thirty seconds of silence went by and he huffed air out, about to hang up the phone when he heard a familiar voice. The voice sent chills down his spine, his heart leaping into his throat.

"Hey Ces." Petruccio said quietly, his voice rough, like he had a throat full of gravel. Cesare was so shocked he could barely breathe, the beer can falling from his fingers and onto the floor, liquid bubbling up onto the carpet. He opened and closed his mouth soundlessly, trying to speak. "You're not drinking again, are you?" his lover asked knowingly, sounding tired, but affectionate.

Snapping back to reality, Cesare cleared his throat once before he finally managed to speak. "P-Petruccio…?" He breathed, his throat gone dry as he spoke, heart pounding in his ribs, as though it wanted to escape his chest in his excitement. He heard his lover chuckle softly, letting out a quiet sigh.

"Yeah, babe. Its me." He murmured, grunting softly, as though in pain. Cesare couldn't stop shaking. "Look, I don't have much t-time." His voice faltered, a low, wet noise could be heard in the background, followed by a scream and two gunshots. The noise made Cesare's blood run cold.

"P-Petruccio! What the h-hell—"

"I need your help, Ces…" Petruccio breathed, cutting off Cesare's worried outcry. He fell into a coughing fit, the noise wet and sickly before he choked and spat away from the phone. "Can't hold it much l-longer, babe…So…please…" Petruccio coughed out, pleading with his lover. "C-come find me…in Silent Hill." He begged, his voice rough with pain.

"P-Petruccio…fuck, I will, I'll be there as soon as I can!" He cried, his voice louder than he meant it to be. He was already getting dressed now, stumbling to his feet, kicking the can across the room in his haste as he grabbed a pair of pants and a jacket.

"Thank you…" Petruccio sighed, his voice full of quiet relief. "Hey, Ces…" he began, his voice shaky again, as though he were fighting off tears. The tone in his voice caused Cesare to halt once again. "I just wanted to s-say…I love you. And…I'm s-sorry." There was another otherworldly screech in the background after that, followed by a low click and the dial tone.

Cesare had never thought his blood would run so cold. The dial tone was the single worst thing he'd ever heard right then. Pulling his face away from the phone, he clicked 'end', staring at the time, the date. The area code was that of Silent Hill. He remembered it. It was the number from Petruccio's apartment.

It took him a moment to pull himself from his shocked stupor, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Shocked and terrified, worried for his lover's safety, Cesare screamed his name into the silence, staring at his phone with tearful eyes. The wetness trailed down his cheeks. Roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his jacket, he grabbed his gun, strapping his holster to his hip. Opening his closet, he stuffed a few supplies into a bag and hurried into his car. It couldn't start fast enough. When the engine finally started, he quickly backed up; it was only moments before he was plowing down the street, his foot pressing hard on the gas.

A thousand questions ran through his head. Was Petruccio okay? What had happened? Was he hurt? Why was he in Silent Hill? It had been so long; he might have been happy to hear Petruccio's voice, if not for the fact that he was scared shitless for him right now.

He had been so afraid; he'd smoked two packs of cigarettes during his six-hour drive to Silent Hill. He could only hope, pray that Petruccio would be all right. He came to a stop just outside the town, thinking it best to search for him on foot. He pulled to the side of the road, putting his car into park before getting out. He grabbed his bag, pulling it up on his shoulder. Drawing in a deep breath to calm himself, he let it out in a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, the strands untamed and poking out in odd directions.

So here he was. Walking on the only road into Silent Hill. He knew what brought him here, but not why. Still in disbelief, he looked at his phone, flipping it open. The number wasn't logged into his phone, though he remembered it by heart. Call time, 6:00 PM. Call duration, two minutes and seven seconds. Area code belonged to Silent Hill. The call was real. There was no other explanation. The only problem was that Petruccio was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

It was late. His watch read 1:02 AM. His eyes ached from lack of sleep, and the effort it to keep them open caused him a small degree of pain. A dull agony that distracted him, bags having formed under the aching blue orbs. It gave him a bruised look, his eyes appearing sunken and haunted under the shadow of his bangs. Rubbing his eyes, Cesare grumbled quietly under his breath, cursing in his mother tongue. Why hadn't he thought to stop for coffee on the way here? Well, he knew why. Only one thing had been on his mind; that Petruccio might be alive, and he was in trouble.

The air smelled faintly of salt – he had to assume it was from the lake somewhere nearby. He couldn't see it, but he could smell it just fine. It was thick in the fog all around him, and somewhat comforting. It made the place seem less dead, even if it was still silent and dreary around him. Cars were parked unused in their usual places on the road. It was almost like he was in the scene of a play, frozen in time, waiting to start. Waiting for him.

Reaching into the bag he'd grabbed when he left, he rummaged around, hoping to find something that might help keep him awake. He always had emergency supplies. Jerky, a flashlight, police radio, water….aha. He found what he was looking for in the form of a lukewarm energy drink at the bottom of his pack; which he pulled out and popped open with the flick of a finger. Grimacing in mild disgust at the temperature, he tipped back the sugary beverage, chugging it without caring much for the taste. He just wanted to stay awake. That was the only thing that mattered right now. Sticking his tongue out lightly as he finished, he crumpled the can in his hand, tossing it in a nearby garbage can. He smiled slightly as he did so – he could almost hear Petruccio scolding him for drinking it. He missed his lover's nagging.

"_You drink too many of those things – they're not meant to keep you awake when you need sleep, Cesare. You really need to get some sleep. Ces…please. Just lay down for a few minutes, okay babe? I'll lay with you, if you want."_

He never listened of course, most times. He would simply smile, drink it, do his work, and end up passed out an hour or two later, the sugar not enough to keep his body moving for more than that. Cesare remembered many a time where he'd been dragged, half asleep, all the way to the bedroom and tucked in by his lover. He remembered numerous times where he'd woken up in bed, not remembering how he got there, or when he'd fallen asleep. And Petruccio would lay curled against his back, or pressed to his front, their legs tangled together, the bed so warm he could have stayed there forever.

Petruccio had always frowned upon certain habits of his. Namely his eating habits, drinking habits, and his desire to smoke…ah, fuck it. He seemed to frown upon a lot of things. It had always been a point to argue. Cesare didn't take care of his body to Petruccio's liking, and they would fight until Petruccio would eventually win. Petruccio always won, one way or another. He was so goddamn convincing. It had been a gift to Petruccio, but a curse on Cesare and his vices.

Sighing weakly, he scanned his surroundings, squinting in the fog to try and gain his bearings. It had been eight long years since he'd been here last. He barely remembered where anything was at the moment. He could make out the silhouette of the café sign, and he headed towards it. Surely there was someone inside that he could speak to, try to figure out where Petruccio might be… if he was anywhere.

_They had gone there every morning for a week, met at the café, eventually gone together. He had stopped attempting to meet Lucrezia in the hotel room after a few days. Instead, they had spent each night in each other's arms, woken up together, and gone about their daily life. If Petruccio had a job, they never spoke of it. He always seemed to have time for Cesare. He could almost see Petruccio waiting out front for him, waving at him - _

Shaking the image from his head, Cesare felt his heart sink. He was still unsure of whether or not he was going crazy at this point. Slipping his fingers into his pocket, he fingered his phone, pulling it out and flipping it open to check the message. The evidence was still there – he had checked it half a dozen times on the way, just to be sure – that call was real. Gripping the phone a little tighter, he closed it again, drawing in a shaky breath to steady himself before he slid it back into his pocket.

Letting out another frustrated sigh, he pushed the door of the café open, noting immediately that it was empty – not even the employees seemed to be there. Glancing back outside, he double-checked that the 'open' sign was lit up, pursing his lips. While empty, it was otherwise undisturbed. Frowning slightly, he moved to the counter, eyes raking over the top and halting when he spotted a glass-covered tray filled with doughnuts. Licking his lips, he grimaced slightly as his stomach gave a low complaint at being empty.

"_Ces, please eat something, you know how cranky you get without breakfast-"_

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He muttered, sighing lightly and rubbing the back of his head with a smile. Cesare looked around once more before pulling out his wallet. He flipped it open, pulling out a few bills and laying them on the counter before grabbing one of the sugary treats. Chocolate. Petruccio had a fondness for it, and Cesare had caught onto it during their years together. But it had been almost a year since he'd divulged in the sweet treat… though there wasn't much of a flavor selection here in the café.

Biting into it, he hummed in pleasure at the burst of flavor on his tongue. Chocolate and Petruccio went together. He had forgotten how many kisses they'd shared, always sweet; even if Petruccio would sometimes complain that he tasted too deeply of cigarettes to truly enjoy his sweetness. He scanned the counter once more, lost in thought as he picked up a crisp, folded newspaper. Leafing through it, his eyes scanned for mention of anything that might help him locate Petruccio.

Chances of finding something in the paper about him were slim. Petruccio liked to keep to himself, even if he was social outside of the house. He was selective with his companions, choosing only to spend time with those he trusted most. It was something Cesare had always approved of. He was much less trusting than Petruccio, but both of them liked their privacy; and they shared it together.

He had never even seen Petruccio's ID, or anything personal other than his bedroom in the two weeks they'd spent in Silent Hill. He seemed almost obsessively clean, yet messy in the bedroom they shared. There were parts of the apartment – the kitchen, the closet – that were unspoken private places. Petruccio cooked all their meals, and Cesare stayed out of his things. It was an invisible line neither of them had wanted to cross just yet. Petruccio had thought back then that they would part ways once he left, anyway.

Setting his phone on the counter as he searched, he jumped a bit as it buzzed. He could've sworn he didn't have any service here, but he relented and flipped it open. For a moment he panicked, his hear leaping into his throat - perhaps it might be going dead? – but was relieved to see a message from his sister lit up instead. Clicking to open it, he tilted his head to the side lightly, frowning a bit upon reading the message.

"_Cesare, where are you? I can't find you. Please don't do anything stupid. I know he died a year ago today, but that doesn't mean you have to be miserable anymore."_ Ah, how his dear sister would rub salt in the old wound. Her personality had always been rough; she rubbed everyone the wrong way. One of her boyfriends had once described her to be like a fine sandpaper, rubbing just enough to be uncomfortable. She was always sweet and sour all at once. Regardless of what others thought of her, he loved her. And her concern was touching, if not misplaced; he was fine, and he didn't need her help.

He paused in his reading to reply, typing quickly. 'I'm fine,' he typed, being sure to choose his words carefully, so as not to scare her further. 'I needed a vacation. I should be back in a few days. Take care.' Cesare finished with a flick of one finger, reading over the message twice before he sent it through. Or rather, tried to send it through. Service was bad – he got an error message soon afterwards. Ah well…he could send it later, when he had better reception. Silent Hill, though a popular resort, had always seemed to have terrible phone service.

He turned his eyes back to the paper, settling on the word 'Auditore', his curiosity piqued. _"Giovanni Auditore, arrested for trespassing—"_ –his train of thought was interrupted by a sharp banging noise behind him, the door of the café slamming open. The noise startled him, making him jump; he made a grab for his gun, gripping the holster painfully tight in one hand as Cesare whipped around to face the figure in the doorway.

He had dark brown hair, almost black in appearance. His eyes looked gray in the dim light - but Cesare couldn't tell if it was just the fog playing tricks on him. He looked just as tired as Cesare felt.

The male had a tight frown pulling at his lips, giving him an air of perpetual displeasure. Peering at Cesare, his brows furrowed further, his lips pursing. "You too?" He asked, letting out an irritated noise. Frowning, Cesare stood, opening his mouth to speak; but the man cut him off. "Have you seen the asshole I'm looking for? Tall, tan, Italian. Big fucking cheesy grin. Flirts with every goddamn thing that moves."

Stunned into silence, Cesare merely gaped at him. Well. He hadn't been expecting that. He just stared at the shorter, angrier man, dumbfounded at his aggressive attitude, his jaw gone slack. Stepping towards Cesare, the newcomer gave him an unimpressed look. "Are you going to answer the goddamn question? Or are you just going to sit there staring at me ready to piss yourself all night? I don't have the fucking time to waste here." He snapped, jolting Cesare from his shocked stupor.

Cesare looked the man over with suspicion, frowning when he realized he was being given the same treatment. Stiffening in his seat, he kept a hand on his gun, ready to pull it from the holster if something went wrong. "Who the hell are you?" he finally demanded, putting on his best authorities voice. The man rolled his eyes, as though Cesare were no more than a peacock fanning out its feathers.

"Vieri. Now, I'll ask you again; have you fucking seen him?" Vieri growled, his leg bouncing a little as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eager to get moving again.

"No, I haven't seen him! Christ…" Cesare swore, frowning darkly. The male in front of him frowned back at him, shaking his head slightly.

"Don't bother with that shit here." He warned, turning to leave since he had apparently deemed Cesare an unhelpful companion. Cesare had opened his mouth to snap back at him when he spotted a dot of red on the back of Vieri's sleeve, his face paling slightly. Cesare's insult died in his throat as the man continued. "If your plan was to pray to god, begging for mercy, then you shouldn't have fucking come to Silent Hill."

Stunned, Cesare merely stared at the bloodied clothing the man wore, eyes raking over his form as Vieri glanced back over his shoulder, gray eyes narrowed in lack of amusement. Clearing his throat, Cesare managed to speak up. "You…you have blood on your –"

"I know." He cut him off, his lips briefly quirking up into a bitter smile before he left, slamming the door behind him on his way out. Cesare was left alone, in silence. Within moments, his new "friend" Vieri had disappeared into the fog. Just like everything else in Silent Hill.

Vieri however, had seemed so much more real than everything else he had seen so far. No people. His surroundings were empty, frozen in time. Everything seemed unmoving, unchanging. It was a relief to know _someone_ was here, other than himself. It gave him more hope that Petruccio might actually be there. If he was alive.


	3. Chapter 3

_The bar wasn't crowded, not at this time of night. It was dimly lit by low neon lights that dotted around the bar. There were a few people on the dance floor, music playing just loud enough to transform nearby conversations into white noise. The booze was good, a little on the cheap side. _

_Cesare had been there for an hour, avoiding his sister, who had been dragging him from one tourist attraction to the next, seeming intent on wearing him out. There were only so many odd little trinkets in shops he could stand to look at before he wanted to shoot something; namely something small and cute, like his sister. _

_So to avoid coming a serial killer, he came to the bar and knocked back beers until he couldn't feel his extremities. Coupled with a few smokes and some idle bar chatter, it made for a dull, if not relaxing evening. _

_Placing a cigarette between his lips, he lit it, about to take a drag when tanned fingers caressed his face, making him tense. They plucked the cancerous addiction from his lips, a low chuckle following the action._

"_Smoking is bad for you, babe." The male murmured, grinning at him, putting the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes, the neon reflecting off his irises, giving them a crimson shade. He looked almost hellish – and Cesare found it was…rather attractive. Turning slightly, he looked the man over, resting his chin on his hand. _

"_Yes, it is. But there's nothing else to do." Cesare mused, taking his drink and sipping at it lightly. The man in front of him merely smiled, reaching out to brush his fingers along Cesare's jaw. Goosebumps rose from where he was touched, and Cesare shuddered slightly. "May I ask who you are, 'Sir'?" he questioned, a hint of interest in his voice._

"_Petruccio Auditore." The older man hummed, a smile pulling at his lips. Seeming unable to keep his hands to himself, Petruccio cupped Cesare's face, tracing the coarse hairs along his jaw. "And you are?"_

"_Cesare…Borgia." The policeman replied, hesitating at first in telling him his real name. He saw no reason not to share the information – after all, Petruccio lived in Silent Hill; they were miles away from anyone he knew. He found himself nuzzling into the hand that caressed his face, shivers of anticipation raising goose bumps on his neck. _

"_Nice to meet you Cesare." Petruccio hummed softly, his hands resting on Cesare's forearms, lightly trailing upwards. He was ogling him with his hands, fingers moving up to squeeze his biceps, and letting out an appreciative purr at the muscles he felt under Cesare's light jacket. Pausing in his inspection, he ran calloused fingers over Cesare's hands, grazing the tops of them. _

"_Same to you…" Cesare let out a bit breathlessly, taking a chance to reach up, brush a stray hair from Petruccio's face. He half expected to be hit. However, Petruccio merely smiled in a mysterious, almost smug manner and nuzzled into his palm, his stubbled chin tickling against the policeman's skin._

"_Enjoying the view?" The older man asked, his voice husky as one of his knees pressed between Cesare's, a gentle pressure pressed against the inside of his thigh. It caused his heart to jump into his throat, a rush of blood flooding downwards moments after. "Or is it the __**feeling**__ that gets you the most?"_

"_Are you sure you want to know where this is going?" Cesare asked, trying desperately to tame the fire that had started in his belly. He wasn't usually the type for a one-night stand; but Petruccio had something about him that just made him so…alluring. _

_Petruccio laughed; a low, clear sound that drew the attention of the men and women nearby. "And where is this going to lead, Cesare?" He asked, leaning in, his warm breath caressing the man's face as he leaned in, and for a moment Cesare could have sworn his eyes shone red. Licking his lips, Cesare swallowed lightly, blinking, his eyes appearing brown once again. The trick of lighting made him more exotic; or perhaps this was the booze talking? He didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care._

_Taking a chance, Cesare leaned in, capturing Petruccio's lips in a warm kiss. Gentle at first, Petruccio soon parted his lips, allowing the younger man to deepen it. Cesare's tongue ran over Petruccio's teeth, tracing his canines, and then brushing his tongue. Sweet. He tasted very sweet. It was almost addictive in quality, that mild sweetness that clung to Petruccio's lips. The contrast with his usual tobacco was almost shocking at first. Cesare vaguely wondered if Petruccio tasted that sweet all over._

"_Your apartment, I was hoping." Cesare murmured, boldly placing his hands on Petruccio's hips, giving them a light squeeze. Petruccio merely smiled, wrapping his arms around Cesare's shoulders, brushing their lips together. Cesare's tongue flicked out to touch those lips – that sweetness was still there; faint traces of chocolate on his lips. It almost felt out of place – and yet, he didn't mind it. "If I'm not being too bold." _

"_You're not." The older male hummed, running his fingers through Cesare's hair before he stood, flashing him a grin. "I have better drinks at my place, anyway."_

_They left together, walking. It wasn't far. No point in moving his car. They half walked, half stumbled (due to constant pawing and kissing on the way) to Petruccio's apartment; Cesare had felt more like a teenager then than he had in years. _

Cesare lit another cigarette as he passed the local bar, stopping briefly to stare at the opening to it. It had been so long since he'd first met Petruccio here…

"_What is that, your fifth cigarette in the last hour? Ces….you're killing me here."_

"Can't kill what's already dead." Cesare mumbled, taking another drag. The smoke dissipated within moments of leaving his mouth, melding with the fog around him. Still a bit puzzled from his recent encounter with the angry male from before, he unfolded a yellowed map he'd grabbed from the café, squinting at it to make out the street names. There was a police station a few blocks down…. He'd make his way there; see what they knew about Petruccio. Someone had to know about him.

Folding the map again, he slipped it into his bag, hiking it up on his shoulder and heading down the street, following the sidewalk. It was eerie, and strangely quiet. The once-thriving town was almost deserted, save for the man he'd seen before. Occasionally the wind would pick up, howling against his ears – only to calm again, leaving him in the near-deafening silence. Inhaling smoke again, the sweet taste of his recent 'meal' was washed away, leaving the familiar, comforting taste of tobacco.

He was beginning to think he might be crazy, despite the so-called 'evidence' on the phone. Was he here for a reason, or not? It was possible he'd drunk more than he realized, gotten a call from someone and imagined the voice he had wanted to hear. It was too good to be true, to get a call from his long-dead lover on the anniversary of his death.

"_God, Cesare…when did you get so pathetic? Falling to pieces at the thought he might be alive?" _It was his sister's voice now, ringing in his ears. He cringed. It was likely a bad thing when he could _already_ hear his sister scolding him, without her even needing to be beside him. Her voice seemed so real. But this wasn't the first time he'd heard her in his head. She seemed to function as a conscience of sorts. A jealous, angry conscience that had a dislike of his dead lover, but he had stopped himself from doing a few stupid things due to her guidance, so he usually tried to listen. But…not this time. He wouldn't let her color his judgment until he saw Petruccio, or his grave.


	4. Chapter 4

1:58AM. Still dark. He was halfway to the police station, and he had been trying to ignore the quiet noises that had gradually started to arise around him. Grunts, groans; it sounded like dogs were mating somewhere nearby, but he couldn't say for sure. He supposed he should have found it comforting that it wasn't entirely silent anymore. But he wasn't. It was too strange, almost sickening. No…it _was_ sickening.

Wrinkling his nose, Cesare reached into his bag, pulling out a strip of jerky. While he wasn't really that hungry, he needed something other than walking to occupy himself. The almost-silence, filled with those quiet, animal noises was making him antsy. He just wanted to scream into the silence for Petruccio to show himself.

Hello Cesare. Welcome to crazy-town. How can I take your sanity today?

No, that wasn't what he needed to think about. Petruccio was what he needed to think about. Petruccio still needed his help. It was like a mantra in his head now. Find Petruccio. Find him. Find out if he's alive. Find his grave.

But where to start?

Cesare knew where to start, but he couldn't remember. It was something on the corner of his mind, taunting him. Something he'd forgotten, but could almost remember. Like he'd just woken from a dream that he was trying to recall. It was going to drive him mad.

He had been hearing the noises for a while now. Sick, choking noises, wet and almost lewd. There was something of a groan off to his left, in a nearby alleyway. His thoughts of Petruccio heightened again. Was it Petruccio? Was he hurt? And then, jealousy; what was that _moaning?_

Yes, I think I'd like a table for one, please. Extra paranoia on the side.

He crept towards the noise, pressed his back against the building wall, peering around the corner into the alleyway. From inside his bag, he could hear a faint crackling noise; his police radio was producing static, soft, though it grew louder as he grew closer to….whatever that noise was. It was only a few seconds before he had his answer to what those noises had been, so loud they'd echoed down the streets. His jaw went slack with shock.

He had never seen anything so perversely disgusting in his life.

Two…_things_ were standing in the alley. Vaguely humanoid in form, one appeared to be female. It's legs and hips were shapely, though its torso was flat, lacking arms. It's head was domed, mouth a jagged line across it's face. 'Her' skin appeared grey, almost rotted in appearance, dotted with blood.

It was pressed up against a nearly identical figure, though it was more masculine in nature. Bulkier, almost muscular in appearance, it pressed the 'female' up against the alley wall, grunting in an animal fashion, grinding and tearing into her flesh with it's teeth. Rather than looking at though 'she' were in pain, the female made that guttural groaning noise again, arching her back and pressing her face closer to the larger creature.

It was sickening; a morbid display of something he couldn't identify. Just watching filled Cesare with a sick sense of guilt. He drew in a sharp breath, tensing as the two creatures halted their movements, turning towards him. The female shrieked, howled so loudly that his ears rang and he winced sharply. _"Cesare, what the hell are you doing!"_ He could hear his sister's voice shrieking in his mind in the same pitch of the beast before him. _"You don't need him; you have me!"_

Another shriek and the two creatures were rushing towards him, the male stumbling drunkenly while the female aimed herself straight for him. Panicked, he pulled his gun out, fingers trembling briefly on the trigger before he fired off a few shots, hitting the female four times between her breasts. She yowled and moaned one final time before falling limp on the ground, trembling and twitching.

His blood gone hot, Cesare saw red. His heart was pounding in his chest, and without thinking of what he was doing; he raised his foot, slamming the heel of his boot into the creature's skull with a sickening _crack_. Blood spattered along the legs of his jeans, coloring the blue fabric with dots of crimson.

Seeming almost shocked, the male monster stopped, staring dumbly at it's lost sibling. Then it bellowed in anger and shot towards Cesare, its path unsteady, but faster now. Cesare wasted little time in shooting off a few rounds once more, choking in surprise when it didn't go down. He was forced to duck to the side with a yell of pain as jagged teeth grazed his shoulder, the creature stumbling past him and slamming full-on into a wall. Eyes wide, Cesare shot at it several more times, watching as it howled and shook, gradually weakening, it's legs giving out as it slumped against the wall.

He couldn't think. He shot the thing three more times, even after it had stopped moving. He was panting hard, the adrenaline providing him a certain high, one he couldn't describe; to his shame, he enjoyed it. Drawing in a shaky breath, he nudged the thing with his boot, grimacing slightly at it. "W-What the hell." The policeman uttered quietly. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into, Petruccio…?"

Wherever Petruccio was, he didn't answer. All Cesare was met with was that unsettling silence, the only sound he could hear being the hammer of his heart in his ears. On an adrenaline high, Cesare stumbled past the bloodied corpses and jogged down the street now, his hand still on his gun. He could hear that dreadful moaning again, followed by deafening static from his bag. The sound faded as he ran – and he narrowly avoided getting charged by another two of those creatures, entangled in a sick, lustful dance.

By the time he made it to the police station, he had a trail of pairs of the creatures following him towards the station. Without looking inside, he opened the door and slammed it behind him. Luckily for him, the creatures didn't seem intelligent enough to figure out how to open the door, at least. Panting harshly, he placed a hand on his chest, looking around. He hoped to find a policeman he could speak with.

No, that would make you too lucky, wouldn't it Cesare? You're doomed to go insane, alone, looking for your dead lover.

There wasn't a soul to be seen. Everything appeared as though someone had simply called everyone away, leaving papers sitting on their desks, unfilled and left behind to resume later. It was unsettling. He kept expecting someone to walk in from any direction.

Sighing weakly, he moved to the counter, sifting through files. There was nothing of interest; petty crimes, burglaries, but nothing that he could really _use,_ and nothing that led him to Petruccio. He sat down at the nearest computer – still on – and waited for it to come off of sleep mode before typing Petruccio's name in. He wasn't sure what he expected to find, but held his breath as a few search queries came up. _Giovanni Auditore, arrested for trespassing._ Odd. That was Petruccio's father, wasn't it? _Federico Auditore, questioned in regards to a domestic violence report. No charges were filed. _Huh. Did Petruccio's entire family have a criminal record?

Scrolling to the next page, he was relieved to see that his mother, Maria Auditore, had no charges filed against her, having died when the children were very young. Claudia Auditore, his sister, however… _Claudia Auditore, domestic violence report. Charges filed against her fiancé; fiancé now on parole._ There wasn't much he could use here. He scrolled past the file on Ezio, the second son, coming to Petruccio's name in the database, his heart leaping into his throat.

_Petruccio Auditore. Arrested for public indecency. Caught having sexual relations in a public bathroom._

Oh, great. There went any theories on Petruccio having a criminal record. He almost wanted to smack himself. Running his fingers through his hair, he grumbled, scrolling past the last few names on the page before turning the computer off. There was nothing he could use there, unless he wanted to try and find photographs of Petruccio's "public indecency" charges. If he found Petruccio again, he'd have to ask about that.

Standing up, Cesare rummaged through a few drawers, trying to find something useful. A lighter. Well, he had one of those already, but there was no reason he couldn't use an extra. Bullets? Check. That was good. Batteries….Hn. Well, batteries for his radio would work. The static crackle had warned him of the strange beasts that had attacked him.

Grabbing as many bullets as he could find, he slipped an extra pack into his pocket, reloading his gun and shoving the rest in his bag. He moved to the computer again, double-checking Petruccio's address. It still read the same as when they'd first met. He still remembered the way.

Taking a deep breath, he cocked his gun, glancing out the door. The quiet sound of static began to fill the silence, joined by a series of deep grunts and groans as he kicked the door open and made a run for his life.

_Petruccio slammed him up against the elevator wall, catching Cesare's lips in a hot kiss. His touches were rough, passionate, with a touch of desperation. Growling in pleasure at the unexpectedly rough treatment, Cesare gripped his hips, nails digging into the man's hips as he ground forwards. Their tongues meshed in the kiss, teasing and rubbing against one another in a wet dance, tasting one another. The taste of tobacco and chocolate mixed in Cesare's mouth in a strange, yet pleasant combo. When Petruccio pulled away, he found himself licking his lips, tipping his head back with a light groan as the older man nipped at his throat, stubble brushing against the sensitive skin of his throat. _

_He felt Petruccio's teeth graze his jaw, and he shuddered, goose bumps rising along his neck. Cesare captured the lobe of the man's ear between his lips, suckling lightly and biting down softly as he slipped his fingers under the waistband of Petruccio's pants, feeling the warm skin underneath. Petruccio growled in warning, biting down hard on Cesare's neck, hard enough to bruise; he hummed in pleasure at the low cry Cesare let out in response. _

_The two quickly broke apart when the elevator doors opened, staring at one another with hungry eyes. Petruccio was the first to move, smirking slightly and grabbing Cesare by the wrist. "Come on, officer." He purred, licking his lips. "My apartment is just down the hall…" His tone was hungry, seductive; perfect. It sent shivers up Cesare's spine. Petruccio was dominating here – and yet, he found he didn't mind relinquishing control. Not to him. _

_How very different from the way his sister dominated him. _

_Cesare eagerly followed Petruccio down the hall, pawing at the man's hips as he fumbled with his keys. _

"_Stop pawing me, brat." Petruccio huffed out, a smile in his voice. _

"_Mm, then move a little faster old man." Cesare goaded, pressing up against him, pulling Petruccio's hips back. The older man stilled for a moment, letting out a low growl as they ground together. Petruccio could feel how hard Cesare was through his pants – he __**knew**__ how badly he wanted it. And that was why he was taking his time. _

"_Asshole." Petruccio muttered, letting out a stuttered chuckle as he finally managed to get the door open, moving inside. He slipped his hands under Cesare's top, brushing his sculpted stomach before beginning to unbutton his shirt. "If you're so eager to continue, why don't you help me undress, hm?" Petruccio suggested, pushing his shirt off Cesare's shoulders. _

"_Of course." Cesare growled, pulling at Petruccio's shirt, the first two buttons popping off in his haste. Petruccio quirked a brow, but otherwise said nothing. When their shirts had fallen to the ground, Petruccio tangled his fingers in Cesare's hair, yanking him forwards into another rough lip-lock. They half walked, half stumbled to the bedroom, Cesare falling atop the older man and pinning him down, straddling him. He pulled back to breathe shakily against Petruccio's neck, lips finding his pulse as he scraped his teeth over the sensitive skin there._

_Petruccio let out a low hiss at the mix of pleasure and pain, digging his nails into Cesare's back, red lines appearing where his nails just barely broke the skin. The policeman arched sharply at the pain, his cock throbbing and growing hard in response. Cesare ground his hips forwards lightly, his length pressing against Petruccio's thigh. "N-nh…jesus, careful…" Cesare hissed softly, glancing up at Petruccio. The older man was grinning – he knew it stung, and he didn't care. The simple fact Petruccio __**knew**__ he had hurt him and __**liked**__ it sent shivers of anticipation down his spine, heat growing in his belly. _

"_Mmh, sorry….I didn't mean to." Petruccio lied, catching Cesare's lip between his teeth and tugging lightly. "Should I kiss it better?" He asked, his voice too-sweet. Cesare shook his head with a smile, kissing at Petruccio's collarbone and biting down on a nipple, relishing in the surprised cry of pleasure-pain that he received in response. _

"_The hell you are….but I'll make you sorry." He teased, thumbs massaging over his chest lightly before he dragged his nails down the sides of Petruccio's torso, watching as he arched beneath him, shuddering, biting his lip and giving Cesare a predatory look. His eyes followed Cesare's lips as they traveled down his chest, his tongue tracing downwards and dipping into his navel. _

_Kisses gradually trailed further down, Cesare's lips brushing the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistline of Petruccio's pants. Hooking his thumbs under the fabric, he slowly pulled them down, nuzzling his cheek against the sensitive skin, shivering as Petruccio gasped and shuddered, fingers tangling in the policeman's dark hair. He rolled his hips upwards, biting his lip. _

"_Just do something already…christ." Petruccio breathed, eyes slipping shut. Cesare merely smirked, dragging his tongue up the underside of his cock before taking the tip in his mouth. _

_He hadn't been with a lot of men, but he was sure the movement's weren't too different from pleasuring a woman. They were just longer, sweeping movements rather than the subtle brush of a woman's folds against his lips. Instead, the hard, throbbing length of Petruccio's cock within his mouth was demanding attention. He slid his head forwards, gagging slightly when he went too far, then drew back again. Back and forth, slowly, his tongue pressed against the underside. Petruccio's toes curled in the sheets, his grip tightening in his hair, trying to force Cesare to take him deeper._

"_G-God…" Petruccio gasped, biting his lip and bucking up into Cesare's mouth. A quick glance down told him of Cesare's inexperience; he forced himself to relax his hips, shifting back, taking a deep breath. "Slower." He said quietly. Move your tongue along the v-veins…yes, like tha-ahh, god." He groaned softly, pressing his head back into the sheets beneath him. Cesare was humming around his mouthful, vibrations traveling up the sensitive skin and sending shivers up Petruccio's spine. What he lacked in experience he made up for in enthusiasm – he followed Petruccio's instructions to the best of his ability, despite the unfamiliar stretch in his throat each time the older man rocked his hips forwards. _

_His pulse was hammering in his ears, breath coming in sharp huffs through his nose as he rocked his head back and forth, hands resting on Petruccio's thighs, feeling them tense and twitch under his hands. He could taste salt on his tongue, knew Petruccio was getting close – and made a noise of protest when the older man gripped his hair, pulling him off his cock. "W-what –" He managed, cut off when Petruccio caught his lips in a rough kiss, biting at his lips and tongue, growling into his mouth. _

"_First time?" Petruccio guessed with a grin, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of Cesare's neck, squeezing the handhold there lightly. Cesare pursed his lips, but nodded. _

"_I don't make a habit of sucking men off." He muttered, the taste still odd, but not unwelcome on his tongue. Petruccio merely chuckled in response._

"_You could be good at it." He teased, slowly tracing his fingers down Cesare's chest, tweaking his nipples before settling on his jeans. He fumbled with the buttons, pushing them down off his hips, boxers soon following. His breath hitched in excitement when Cesare was fully bared to him, and he trailed the edge of one nail along the sensitive head, keeping Cesare in place by the grip in his hair as he bucked and hissed at the twinge of pleasure, not expecting it. _

"_P-Petruccio…" The name was foreign on his lips, but he found he didn't mind moaning it. It felt right. _

"_Don't move." Petruccio whispered, lips grazing his ear, teeth worrying at the shell as he rubbed the calloused pad of his thumb over the tip of his length, then slowly wrapped his fingers around it, stroking slowly. The careful, barely-felt strokes made Cesare's nerves sing, and he bucked impatiently into the hand, stilling with a hiss as the grip in his hair tightened. "I said don't move, brat." He huffed in his ear, biting at it again until Cesare's movements stopped. _

_Pleased that the younger man was listening, Petruccio gave a slow squeeze – as though in praise – and shivered at the moan Cesare let out in reply. He briefly pulled his hand back to fumble in a drawer, coming out with condoms and lube. Ripping the condom open with his teeth, he grinned at Cesare's peeved expression, teasing the rubber over the tip of his cock before slowly sliding it down the length, half stroking him on the way down. The lubricant was easier to open; he popped the cap, drizzling a bit of cool fluid over the length of Cesare's cock before gripping it in his hand again, squeezing and stroking. _

_Cesare wasn't entirely sure why he took the teasing without complaint, his thighs trembling a little with the strain to keep from moving. Petruccio moved his hand slow, squeezing the tip each time he backed off, nails lightly grazing what the condom didn't cover each time his hand moved down. He wanted to bend his head, turn away; but the grip in his hair forced him to keep looking at Petruccio's face as he stroked him, smirking a little and chuckling in his ear. _

"_You like that?" Petruccio stated rather than asked, giving a harder squeeze and chuckling when Cesare couldn't stop from bucking his hips. He stopped moving his hand, waiting to see if Cesare moved again before continuing. _

"_F-fucking __**tease**__." Cesare swore, blue eyes narrowed, hazy with lust. "L-Let me fucking move already…." _

"_The young are so impatient." Petruccio sighed, toying with the tip, squeezing harder until Cesare groaned and let out a noise close to a whine, urgency in his posture, his voice. "Get on your back, Cesare." He ordered lightly, tugging on his hair, releasing his cock as he guided him to lie back on the bed. _

_Cesare followed eagerly, hoping to earn more praise, to make Petruccio move faster. He was only slightly disappointed. Straddling his legs, Petruccio gripped him with both hands, stroking him just as slow, though he added more pressure. Cesare ached to feel Petruccio's bare skin on him – but he knew better than to ask. The older man's length went untended, still glistening with saliva, pressed very near Cesare's erection. _

_Apparently Petruccio felt he was ready enough – because he stopped, wiping his hands on the sheets and grabbing Cesare's wrists, which rested lightly on the bed. He rocked his hips forwards lightly, letting their lengths rub against one another lightly. The pressure was maddeningly light, and nowhere near satisfying. It made Cesare moan out his urgency, trying to arch upwards – but Petruccio's weight kept him down, kept him from moving. _

"_Tell me what you want." Petruccio ordered softly, his tone hushed, barely audible. His slow movements never stopped; he continued to lightly rock his hips, tempting Cesare with the pressure. Whatever resistance Cesare had left was melting away. _

"_You," Cesare breathed out, his chest rising and falling with each breath, shuddering on each exhale. "Please. Petruccio…" He begged, biting his lip as the older man raised his hips, shifting so that Cesare's length fitted along the curve of his rear. "Please…" he said again, eyes locked on Petruccio's hips as they raised slightly, one hand sliding back to guide him – and then he was surrounded by tight heat; he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. "Petruccio!" _

_Petruccio sank down slow, insides taking Cesare, stretching to accommodate him. The squeeze was tight without preparation, but whatever pain Petruccio felt he seemed to enjoy. His head was tipped back, palms resting flat on Cesare's belly now as he bucked his hips, panting harshly. "C-Cesare." He breathed, giving a gentle roll of his hips, muscles squeezing him. "God…__**Cesare**__." He groaned again, bending to kiss him. _

_Cesare eagerly pushed himself up to meet the kiss, surprised when it was more tender than before. The heat of passion was tinged with something sweeter – and it wasn't just the taste in Petruccio's mouth this time. Swallowing at the unfamiliar emotions rising inside him, Cesare lightly rested his hands on Petruccio's hips, panting softly when the man pulled back. "Petruccio…ah.." He couldn't stop saying his name. "Can I move?" It felt like he had to ask, and he didn't think that was a bad thing._

"_Yes…" Petruccio breathed, flashing Cesare a smile that had lost it's cockiness somewhere along the way. "Move, Ces." He urged, giving a slow roll of his hips, gasping when Cesare bucked up to meet the movement. _

_Their movements were slow at first, gentle grinding and rocking motions that gradually built in speed and pressure. Soon Petruccio was riding him at a steady pace, while Cesare bucked up to meet him each time his hips came down. Their cries were soft to begin with, growing louder to match the intensity of their movements. Sweat formed on Cesare's brow, trickling down his temple. For a moment he feared he was tiring too soon – but was relieved to find Petruccio glistening with the evidence of their exertions, shining with sweat, his breath finally – __**finally**__ – catching in his throat as he moved. _

"_J-Jesus, Petruccio…" Cesare gasped out, nails digging into Petruccio's hips as he sought to find a decent hold on him, his grip slipping, palms slick with sweat. Each thrust upwards was urgent and rough, punctuated by Cesare's low groans and Petruccio's keening cries. The pressure built within him – and he knew from looking that Petruccio wouldn't last much longer either._

_Sliding a hand up to cup his partner's erect cock, Cesare stroked him roughly in time with his thrusts, squeezing the tip, wanting to send him over the edge. Briefly, he worried it might not be enough; but when Petruccio bucked his hips frantically into the touch, squeezing around him so tightly that he saw stars – he knew it was almost over. _

_Grinding hard up into Petruccio with a low cry, Cesare's hips stuttered against Petruccio's, pressed flush up against him as he came. Despite feeling lightheaded and sated, he continued to stroke his temporary lover, letting out a low hum of contentment when Petruccio growled and spilled his seed over Cesare's stomach. _

_For a while, the only sound that he heard was their low, panting breaths. Petruccio was leaning over him, arms on either side of his shoulders, hair hanging down like a veil around his face. His eyes were shut, sweat dripping from his brow and down his nose, landing on Cesare's collarbone. They were both exhausted. Finally, when he felt he had his breath back, Petruccio opened his eyes. _

_They stared at one other silently, and Cesare could feel a tiny seed of panic growing in his chest. This had been a one-night stand. He had known that when he went home with Petruccio. He wasn't sure if he would be asked to leave. He was drawn from his thoughts when Petruccio lifted a hand up, gently stroking his cheek, his free hand moving to do the same to the other side of his face. "You look so scared, Ces." Petruccio whispered, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. "Looks like you need some rest." _

_With that, Petruccio slid off of him, removing and disposing of the condom they'd used before pulling the covers up onto them. _


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey! Wake up, asshole!"

Cesare's head snapped up, finding himself sitting in the lobby of Petruccio's apartment. His gun lay loosely in his hands, resting in his lap. His jeans and shirt were dotted with blood from those _things_ that he'd encountered. He couldn't remember falling asleep, or really how he'd gotten to the apartment building. His heart was hammering in his chest from being woken so suddenly, his eyes heavy with sleep. Groggy and on alert, he tried to wake himself up as he looked up at Vieri, who was bending over him, looking irritated. His arms were crossed over his chest.

"…Vieri…?"

"No shit, Sherlock." The shorter man muttered, tired grey eyes quickly scanning over Cesare's battered and bloodied form. Though he made no mention of it, Vieri had a new wound – a deep laceration along one forearm, hastily covered up with bandages and bright red with fresh blood. Irritated with Cesare's lack of movement, he gripped him by his jacket, shaking him a bit. "Hey. Hey. Don't let yourself be one of them, alright? You have to stay awake." He growled, shaking him a little until Cesare batted Vieri's hand away tiredly. "I already saw someone else fall for this monster bullshit and I don't need you doing it too."

Grumbling a bit, Cesare shoved Vieri's hand away, forcing himself to his feet. Yawning so hard that tears formed in his eyes, Cesare rubbed at them futilely, trying to force the sleep from his eyes. Vieri, still unamused, hung back while Cesare composed himself.

"Listen, asshole – "

"It's Cesare."

"Cesare. Whatever. There's about a dozen of those things outside, and I don't feel like shooting them all when I'm low on bullets. Do you have any?" Vieri was brief, trying to get away from Cesare as quickly as possible. Sighing heavily, Cesare rummaged in his bag, coming out with a box and handing it to Vieri, who happily accepted. He reloaded his gun, shoving the rest of the bullets in his pocket. "Fucking piece of shit…fucking…fuck, ugly fucking bastards…" He muttered angrily under his breath, briefly glancing up to see the myriad of creatures grinding against one another outside the nearest window. He wrinkled his nose in disgust before turning back to his gun.

"We're at…mh…Greenfield Apartments…right?" Cesare guessed, his hair mussed from sleep, the circles under his eyes so dark he looked bruised.

"Yeah, we are. Federico lived here." Vieri muttered, moving to the nearest counter and rummaging around in a drawer, searching for something, anything. When he found nothing, he sighed. "Look, I don't know what the hell you want, but I'm checking Federico's apartment and then leaving out the back. If you're looking for something here, do it on your own time. I don't work well in teams, and I don't 'play nice'. If you see Federico, tell him to get his ass in line."

"Wait," Cesare called, moving to the counter and grabbing Vieri's wrist. He tensed up a bit, glancing back over his shoulder at the younger male.

"What?"

"Is there…some reason that its …. Odd that Federico contacted you? Is there some way he shouldn't have been able to?" He had to know. Petruccio was dead. Or was…. Supposed to be. What was this 'Federico' person's story?

Vieri was reluctant to answer. He was tense; he wouldn't look at Cesare. He kept his gaze averted. Eventually, Vieri yanked his arm away, growling low in his throat. "Why the fuck should I know?" He demanded, lashing out with words and looking ready to point his gun at Cesare. "Federico's a fucking prick, that's what he is. He's playing jokes on me. That's all." Vieri spat, sounding more as though he were trying to convince himself than anything else.

Ignoring his previous intentions to explore the apartment, he left directly out back, leaving Cesare without a chance to reply. Cesare stood in silence after he'd left, letting out a shaky sigh. The apartments were dark, and he couldn't see a switch anywhere. Pulling out a flashlight from his bag, he hooked it to his belt loop, aiming it to point in front of him so he could continue holding his gun as he walked. The elevator was out of order, so he headed to the stairs, holding his breath as he began to ascend.

_Petruccio had woken with the sun, sitting up in bed, watching Cesare. Shifting a bit to pull the man's head into his lap, he gently stroked his hair, enjoying the softness of the strands For all he knew, this would be the last time he and Cesare ever saw each other._

_As the clock crept towards 7:00 AM, Petruccio bent his head, gently nudging Cesare awake. He was unaware of what compelled him to rouse the younger male, but it felt right. He wanted to see those pretty blue eyes one more time before they parted ways. Shifting in bed, Cesare mumbled a little, and then did something unexpected: he nestled further into Petruccio's lap._

_Petruccio made a noise of surprise. He gently shook Cesare again, tugging on a strand of hair. "Cesare?" He sounded hesitant. Questioning. _

"_Mngh….." Cesare groaned out, cracking open one eye blearily. He rolled slightly onto his back, staring up at him, looking at a loss for what was going on. "P'truccio…?" He mumbled, his voice rough with sleep. "Wh' time is it…?" He yawned, tongue lightly poking out in a kittenish manner._

_Petruccio bit his lip to hide a smile, peering down at the younger male with a curious expression. He lightly ran his fingers through his hair, stroking his cheeks, massaging his shoulders. He was being strangely affectionate towards the man who was supposed to be a one-night stand. "It's seven, babe." Petruccio said softly, rubbing noses with him. For such a tough talker, Petruccio had never expected Cesare to be so…__**cute**__. _

"_Wh'….seven? In th' mornin'…?" Cesare asked, his eyes slipping shut again as he turned his face into Petruccio's leg, his facial hair lightly scratching against one exposed thigh, making Petruccio shiver. _

"_Yes, seven…in the morning." Petruccio chuckled, gently tugging at his ear. "Time to wake up, babe….my stomach is growling, and you've captured my lap. I'll make you breakfast." He promised, motioning to his inability to move from where Cesare was keeping him. _

_Groaning in displeasure, Cesare rolled away from Petruccio, so that his back was facing the older male. He curled inward slightly, trying to burrow himself in the covers. "Too early…" he complained. Petruccio couldn't help but laugh this time, feeling pleased and in good humor. He leaned in, nibbling gently at Cesare's ear, pressed flush up against his back, spooning against him. _

"_Wake up, Ces. You need to wake up."_

Cesare came to a halt outside of Petruccio's old apartment. It was too familiar, and an ache began to build in his chest. There were still marks from where Petruccio's nails had dug into the wood.

_He had Cesare pressed against the door, nails digging into the wood, peeling paint as he crushed their lips together—_

Cesare jiggled the doorknob. Unlocked. He swung the door open and a wave of nostalgia hit him, old memories and emotions rising up inside of him –

Until there was an alien screech five feet from him, coupled with deafening static from the bag slung over his shoulder.

His flashlight illuminated the creature as he took a step into the room. It vaguely resembled the male creatures he had seen before, though it was of a different color, crimson and shining as though it were covered in blood. Spikes protruded from its back, and though it had arms, its "fists" were larger than average, veined and dripping red fluid. Its mouth was a gaping hole in it's head, fanged and dripping like the rest of it.

It bellowed in anger as Cesare entered, catching him off guard and swiping at his leg, knocking the man off his feet. Letting out a shout of pain, Cesare grabbed his gun, shooting off a few rounds into the thing's head. It howled in pain, but didn't fall – instead, it thrust its torso outwards towards Cesare, spitting out what appeared to be blood – all over Cesare's chest.

Whatever it was, it smelled so strongly of alcohol that it made Cesare gag. It was as though someone had boiled down concentrated whiskey, mixing it with _something_ that made it feel almost toxic on his skin. Cesare shot it again – eight times before the beast finally went down, collapsing face-first onto the floor. Its blood smelled foul like what it had spit onto Cesare, making the whole apartment stink of liquor, blood, and death.

Breathing hard, Cesare shook a little as the sound of static died off, leaving him alone with the dead thing. Nudging it with his foot to make sure it wasn't playing dead, he slowly stood, legs aching from where the thing had struck him. Nothing was broken, but he would be walking with a limp for a while. Fuck. That, and the smell of alcohol was making him sick.

Walking past the beast, the stench hit him again and he coughed, choking. He could feel bile rising in his throat, and he stumbled into the bathroom, hoping he wouldn't lose his only meal – only to find himself bent over the toilet in a matter of seconds, puking into it. The acid taste of bile made him gag further – and he choked and expelled more, dry-heaving once his stomach was empty.

Groaning at the ache in his now-empty stomach, he struggled to stand, flushing the toilet and grabbing onto the sink, glad to find it relatively clean. Turning on the faucet, he splashed a bit of water on his face, grumbling to himself as his stomach churned with discomfort. He washed the alcohol-stink from his hands as best he could, though it seemed to have seeped straight into his skin, like he'd been drowned in the stuff.

Opening the medicine cabinet, he prayed for something, anything to ease the ache in his belly. What he found was a slip of paper, a prescription on a fresh piece of paper. Gripping it tightly, he shifted to lift his flash-light so he could read it better. The words practically jumped off the page at him, and his heart leapt into his throat.

"_Hey Ces. If you've found this…I hope its not too late. You made it, babe…..you made it to Silent Hill. Memories, eh? Heh…I still don't have much time, but I think you could use some medicine right now._

_Love, Petruccio."_

The ink looked fresh, and the paper was still crisp, though a smear of blood was rubbed on one corner. Pressing a kiss to the paper, Cesare took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Medicine… what was Petruccio talking about? It didn't make sense. Glancing at the paper again, he held it up to the light, scanning for any clues Petruccio might have left. Alchemilla Hospital…. That was where the prescription was taken from. Did he need to go there?

Whatever he needed to do…it was the only clue he had. Folding the paper, he slipped it into his pocket, pausing to grab a half-empty bottle of pain pills. Popping one into his mouth, he washed it down with tap water, looking at himself in the mirror for a moment as he stepped back. He looked a mess, soaked in water, stinking of blood and alcohol. It almost made him gag again. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, pulling his gun close to him as he stepped out into the hallway, the soft sound of static rising from his bag again as he heard another low grunt and screech.


End file.
